


my favourite stanza

by sugarcoats



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Doyoung is a mysterious cute stranger, Fluff, Getting Together, Kun is an emo angsty poet, M/M, Qian Kun-centric, who looks pretty in blue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:22:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22060021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarcoats/pseuds/sugarcoats
Summary: "The man seemed to glow, with his hoodie matching the color of the flowers he came out of behind, his eyes sparkling with the same intensity as the buds of the forget-me-nots." or: Kun is a poet, and becomes stuck on Doyoung, the beautiful stranger in his neighbourhood.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Qian Kun
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42
Collections: kuniversism





	my favourite stanza

**Author's Note:**

> prompt #79: aspiring poet kun leaves little notes and writings around his neighbourhood—tucked into flowerpots, behind windows, folded and stuffed in cracks of pavement.

As long as Kun could remember, he’d found comfort in words. As a young kid, he found pleasure in the library, spending all his time with books. When he discovered poetry, it had felt like home.

Once he started writing, it became his way of dealing with the world. And, he hoped, his words could mean the same to someone else.

Nowadays, it was his escape to the daily slur of work and university life. Spending so much time behind a computer coding led him to the need for an escape. He'd chosen a  _ useful _ major, one that had  _ job security _ and  _ market value _ , and he stood by that choice, though that didn't keep him from missing the joys of writing.

He knew it would pay off in the end, but he was desperate to leave a more meaningful mark in the world. Which led him to leaving his words behind wherever he could.

It was the beginning of spring, one of the first nice days out that marked the start of a season of flowers and sun, Kun assumed. He was determined to make the most of it, especially now that he didn't have finals to worry about. 

He chose a sunny spot in the grass, right behind a light green bush that hid him from the sun and away from the main, busier area of the park. The forget-me-nots stared at him in blue as he stared into nothingness, his pen resting against his mouth. He was pondering over a comparison between flowers and human beauty, trying to translate the image in his head onto paper. The right words were on the tip of his tongue when they were stolen by a person blocking the sunshine.

When he looked up, he had to blink rapidly to see against the sun, and when he did, he felt as if he was hallucinating. A man had appeared in his vision. The man seemed to glow, with his hoodie matching the color of the flowers he came out of behind, his eyes sparkling with the same intensity as the buds of the forget-me-nots. The comparison he had been looking for was coming alive right in front of his eyes.

The light, baby blue of his hoodie overwhelmed his senses, filling Kun’s thoughts with musings about the nice contrast between his black hair and his outfit, as well as how well it color coordinated with his background of five-petaled flowers.

Before Kun could embarrass himself by speechlessly staring or compare the man to a flower, the man in question excused himself. Kun blinked. Did that just happen? The only reason Kun was sure he didn't hallucinate, was that he saw him leave with a slightly ugly, yet endearing dog minutes later.

Well, that was something. At least he knew how to finish writing now, and he crossed out the unfinished line in his notebook, continuing writing with new-found invigoration, the image of the man still fresh in his mind.

Kun pulled some Forget-Me-Not’s from the ground, making a mental note to look up how to preserve the color the best, considering that after his encounter with the stranger, it had become all he could picture.

He ended his day productively, having written pages and pages of new material. It left Kun with the wish to see the stranger again, not just as source of inspiration but also because he’d been so damn cute… If only they’d met under less coincidental circumstances.

On his way home, he passed by the public flower garden of a high school, and he left some of his writings in the flower pots. May some high schooler find solace in the random words they might encounter—if the weather didn’t destroy his letters before that. 

•••

Surprisingly, he saw the man again. Kun happened to pass by him, although he was too shy to approach him. It was surprising that he’d never noticed him before, too, unless he’d recently moved into the neighbourhood. There were a thousand possible stories Kun could make up, which didn’t prevent him from wanting to know his real one. 

Not knowing anything about him, he began referring to him as Forget-Me-Not, since he couldn’t seem to forget the stranger’s eyes and their sparkling likeliness to the blue flowers. Besides, the name seemed quite fitting for his situation. He figured they must live close because they always took walks in the same neighbourhood. Circumstances made it that these moments were limited to glimpses on the street, and Kun settled for daydreaming about the man during his classes.

•••

On darker days, he wondered why he even bothered. He told himself he wanted to leave a mark on the world with his words, but if he was realistic, he knew that no one was reading, or even finding, his notes. Best case scenario, someone picked a note up to throw it away because they thought it was littering; worst case scenario, the worms ate it. 

On days like that, Kun realized he was a coward, only entrusting his work to nameless strangers, or Johnny if he was feeling confident. Johnny, like any good friend, always complimented his work, but still, he preferred to keep it to himself.

The fear of judgement kept him from publishing anything; the only permanent places where his writings resided were his notebook and his Google Docs, full of started documents and unfinished sentences.

His problem was that all of his projects felt fragmentary. The further he got into a project, the more incomplete it felt. It always reminded him of the remains of old Greek poets whose writing was found in bits and pieces, a fill-in-the-gaps text, never sure what the whole story was. 

It didn’t help that that was exactly how he formatted his notes around the neighbourhood, limiting his space to write and thus out of necessity, fragments of fuller thoughts. Like Sappho, some fragments were ambiguous or unfinished. Sentences wouldn’t connect well with each other; other gaps left for the reader to fill in.

Ever the poet Kun found that to be an ironic metaphor for his life. He desperately wanted to have a direction in life, but instead he was living day-to-day, never too sure what he was missing but looking for it anyway.

•••

The chance to talk to the stranger came when Kun was out once again, observing whatever birds flew from and to the bushes next to the playground. He got something to drink at the small convenience store on the corner, and when he returned, he saw the back of a familiar black-haired man walk along the playground. 

Kun’s eyes hung onto Forget-Me-Not and his plushy animal keychain dangling off his backpack, and moments before Kun averted his eyes, it fell to the ground. Kun briefly considered whether to say anything, however, his manners got the best of him, and he turned around to approach him.

“Hey, I think you dropped something,” Kun said with wide, curious eyes. This could be his chance to learning more about him.

The man’s eyes caught Kun’s. “Oh, thanks.” He smiled. 

Kun tried to muster the courage to introduce himself to this stranger, but his mind took too long and before he knew it, the man had turned around with a nod.

Paralyzed by the countless possibilities, Kun lost himself in the idea of  _ could-be _ . Too caught up in that, he didn’t realize the man had turned back around.

Blurting out the first thing he could think of, he said, “nice sheep on your bag! Does it have a name?”

There it was again, the stranger’s beautiful smile.

“It’s a bunny, actually. Bit worn out, but no, it doesn’t.”

Somehow, the moment was less awkward than Kun had feared it to be, and he smiled back at Forget-Me-Not.

Marking the end of their interaction, they exchanged waves to say goodbye.

Then they did that thing that strangers realize after having said goodbye—having to walk into the same direction to leave. They left on the path along the peaceful playground. Here, walking next to Forget-Me-Not, he didn’t leave any words behind, of course, but the place gave him enough words in return. 

•••

Deciding to head to a friend for advice, he asked Johnny about it when they were catching up over dinner.

Where he used to spend his time writing, mulling over which words to use, he now couldn't get thoughts of the cute stranger out of his mind. It was ruining his life just the slightest, honestly.

"Sounds like the start of a romcom," Johnny noted.

Johnny had been single for the majority of the time Kun’d known him, and the biggest romanticist Kun knew. If it wasn’t the start of a fated romance, Johnny would make it into one.

So far, Kun’s love life had been uneventful, and he was glad Johnny limited his commentary to mild jokes instead of intense overanalyzing.

“Honestly, just talk to him.”

Kun sighed. “I’m trying—I really am,” he emphasised when Johnny raised his eyebrows. “I can’t help it that something about his face just makes my mouth stop working.”

Johnny rested his elbows on the dinner table. “You’re overthinking it. Just shoot your shot.”

“If you’re so sure he might also be into me, then why hasn’t  _ he _ made a move yet?”

“Maybe he’s thinking the exact same thing about you.”

Kun pushed Johnny lightly. “Point taken… I’ll keep you updated.”

•••

In hindsight, Kun was slightly embarrassed about his behaviour. The stranger had seen him often enough, and Kun had every right to be there.

And yet, when he spotted the black wavy hair that was familiar to him by now, he decided to hide from him between the bushes of the small park. He just felt a bit awkward meeting him so often and didn’t want to come across like a stalker.

He wanted to talk to him, he really did, but he still didn’t know how to talk to him casually. Instead, he did the opposite to rational thinking, and hid.

He struggled getting down, slowly shuffling until he's on the ground, crossing his legs. He heard rustling next to him and tried not to jump, even though his entire body has tensed up.

When the unknown danger turned out to be a cat, Kun released a breath in relief and reached out with his hand to pet it. He always loved it when random cats on the street were open to interact, thinking they must've had good experiences with humans to trust strangers. Though, it also came with the worry that they were naive and wouldn't recognize danger if it approached them; but all he could do is wish stray cats well as they crawled through the neighbourhood.

He peeked behind him to see whether Forget-Me-Not was still there. He was.

Apparently, his animal companion didn't take well on its back being turned on, because it started meowing for attention. Kun's eyes widened in panic, trying to comfort the cat in front of him while keeping Forget-Me-Not in his field of vision, who was approaching the source of the sound.

He sent his companion a stink-eye. Traitor.

The footsteps seemed to intrigue the cat, who came forward to meet the man, but not before he was close enough to spot Kun.

Amused disbelief graced his face. "We meet again," he laughed. "Are you okay? Why are you on the floor?"

Kun struggled with words before pointing at the cat, as if that explained everything.

The man shook his head in amusement. "What're you doing here?"

"What are  _ you _ doing here?" Kun decided to counter, figuring he couldn’t answer since he himself wasn’t sure what he was doing.

"I need the fresh air, staying in always takes a toll on me."

Kun nodded in understanding. "I write—mostly outside as well."

Another smile. Could you fall in love with someone based on their smile? "I know. I’ve read some of it."

Kun hesitated. “...What?” He’d always written anonymously, and that the man he was crushing on had read it should terrify him. “Wait, how’d you know it was me?”

“I’ve seen you write notes, and I’ve found written notes around the neighbourhood—one plus one equals two.” 

Kun had never been impressed by someone’s logical thinking before. 

The man continued speaking with his mesmerising voice. “You’re like the friendly neighbourhood poet, right?”

Kun furrowed his brows in confusion. “...Like Spiderman?”

The man blushed, and stumbled over his next words. “Forget it, it’s something my flatmate told me.”

After a beat of silence, while Kun was desperately searching for words to say—something that should come relatively easily to him as a poet, but not in the face of a cute man—he spoke again. "So," the man challenged him. “Can I at least know your name?”

“It’s Kun.” And as clever as he was, he forgot to ask for the stranger’s name.

••• 

Johnny, of course, didn’t let him live this down. “At least he knows your name now, but you’re still out here calling him Forget-Me-Not. “

Kun sighed. “Baby steps?”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Johnny retorted, sticking his tongue out.

“I’m trying, okay. Can’t help it the man’s face is so beautiful I would buy a wallpaper of it and look at it every day for the rest of my life.”

“Your comparisons are so weird sometimes, dude.”

•••

With the end of school came the quiet summer. Day by day, students and families left for summer vacation, and his neighbourhood got more empty. Kun returned to his summer job at the supermarket, and tried to find Forget-Me-Not again.

Looking out for the man, he paid a lot more attention to his surroundings, which paid off eventually. 

“Hey,” he greeted Forget-Me-Not.

“Hello Kun.”

“So, what’s your name? I didn’t catch it last time…” Kun trailed off.

“You didn’t ask.” The words were accompanied with a smile. “It’s Doyoung.”

Kun learned Doyoung was often wandering outside to escape his shitty student dorms, preferring the solitude over his noisy flatmates.

They exchanged contact information, and before long, time that used to be spent writing was now spent texting. 

Doyoung intimidated him less now that Kun actually knew his name, and he actually found himself reaching out to get to know the smallest things about Doyoung. Connecting with someone who’d seen some of his most honest thoughts already was comfortable, seeing as Kun didn’t have to keep up any act to impress him, although it was also a little scary the more he thought about it. It also didn’t stop him from  _ wanting _ to impress Doyoung, who was so smart and funny and so easy to talk to. Conversations started out of nowhere and Kun wouldn’t notice how much had passed until his stomach started grumbling.

They continued meeting each other, this time on purpose instead of coincidence. As the parks in their neighbourhoods got busier the closer summer approached, they moved to Kun’s balcony instead. 

Doyoung made him forget about time and made talking effortless; they shared similar interests in music and both liked to cook, while he also challenged Kun to get out of his shell. 

They talked and talked, and every day Kun discovered a new interesting side of Doyoung. At the same time, Kun shared more of himself. Of the emotions behind the words Doyoung had read in his notes, of the dreams that had inspired Kun and brought him here, and of the many worries that plagued Kun when he didn’t pay attention.

Doyoung shared his own interests, secrets and music taste with him, all which showed Kun more reasons to keep him close.

They were closer on a physical level, too, although Kun wasn’t sure whether he should act on it. He was attracted to Doyoung—that part was simple. He also knew Doyoung might be interested, because Kun wasn’t completely oblivious.

However, he was scared. Ever since he’d met Doyoung, time had flown by, and it all seemed to have happened so fast. 

Sooner or later, it was time to introduce him to Johnny. Had he thought about it beforehand, Kun would’ve thought to make it bigger deal; after all, the two most important people in his life were meeting each other for the first time (it also served as a moment of realisation of just how significant Doyoung had become to him). As it was, however, Johnny just popped in after class on Thursday, like every week, to Doyoung and him cooking dinner. 

Kun coughed when he heard the door, and couldn’t stop a big grin from appearing on his face. “Hey Johnny, this is Doyoung! Doyoung, meet Johnny.”

•••

It wasn’t until Doyoung had made his way into his daily routine that Kun dared to make a move. Truthfully, it had taken some courage being talked into him from Johnny’s side, and many instances of nervous, “accidental” hand holding with Doyoung, but he had finally mustered the courage to go for it. 

For someone who spent so much time overthinking thoughts and how to express them, you’d think he’d know when to stop, but alas.

Kun’s racing thoughts were silenced by the touch of Doyoung’s thigh against his, when they sat on the couch, attempting to study. “I’m hungry,” Doyoung whined, and he gave him a smile instead.

•••

Almost all of his writing was temporary. When he was at a beach, he loved to write in the sand and let the waves wash the words away almost immediately. It was cathartic, to write down his and fears and worries, confess to the sea.

So that’s where he took Doyoung.

“I’m entrusting to you something special.”

“I promise I won’t peek.”

They’d been stuck in the will-we, won’t-we for so long, Kun second-guessed himself whether he should act on it.

This wasn’t a love story, in which he could write as many poems until he got it right. Which was exactly the point of real life; he only had one chance and no way of predicting the outcome. He was rather a fan of happy endings, so he took his shot.

Kun wrote his confession in the sand. Doyoung was uncharacteristically quiet, and Kun smiled fondly at his patience.

He stood behind Doyoung, placing his hands above his, which were still covering his eyes. “You can look now,” he pulled their hands away, “in the words of the great lyricist Carly Rae Jepsen...”

They both looked out over the horizon, the waves against the shore and Kun’s words in the sand at their feet.

_ I really really really like you. _

Doyoung opened his mouth to say something, but a big smile took its place instead. He turned around, intertwining their fingers, looking him in the eyes. “I so happen to like you too.”

Kun took that as a sign to lean in and Doyoung’s lips met his, a soft and careful kiss. 

They felt the water hit their feet, soaking their shoes, and both shrieked. Breaking apart, they turned back to the sea, no trace of Kun’s confession except for their intertwined hands and slightly swollen lips.

•••

Kun’s favourite view became looking out of their kitchen slash living room and seeing Doyoung reading on their balcony.

A sight which made Johnny joke, “am I gonna be third wheeling in my own apartment from now on?”

Kun knew he was only kidding, and teased, “maybe if you stopped rejecting the people asking you out, you wouldn’t have to.” 

Maybe he and Doyoung could find someone to set Johnny up with. He let himself think about moving in together with Doyoung, and realized that future didn’t seem all too bad.

Kun still turned to words for comfort and ease, though whether these were words written on paper, or words spoken underneath blankets to his boyfriend, didn’t matter.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u to [redacted] for making me push through and finish this! thank u for the prompter for the beautiful inspiration, im sorry i couldnt do it justice, i wanted to do so much more but here we are! and thank u marie for mod'ing the fest <3


End file.
